


He Really Did Make You Happy

by ErUhThrowaway



Category: Clone High
Genre: Confessions, Fuck you Tumblr, Other, Reader has no name, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, and i guess joan of arc is ok too but neither of them are major characters in this so FUCK YOU, cringe culture is dead unless ur a clone high fan i guess, gandhi is ok, going off the character development he got in the last few episodes, i'm very proud of it, in reality i love this fic a lot, it has a bittersweet ending, jfk is ooc, reader has no gender, reader has no pronouns, reader is not y/n, sorry for all the tags, sorry i did my best, this is an anti abe zone, this is an anti cleo zone, this isn't really sad actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErUhThrowaway/pseuds/ErUhThrowaway
Summary: he came off as just another idiot at first; the other teens around town weren’t exactly the brightest, or the most respectful for that matter.frankly, you wanted nothing to do with the clone. he was disrespectful, rude, egotistical, and so, so fucking stupid. going off of what you’d seen and heard of him, he wasn’t really worth interacting with.so when jfk started flirting with you like you were just another doormat who’d put out for him on the first date, you were quick to blow him off.
Relationships: JFK (Clone High)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	He Really Did Make You Happy

**Author's Note:**

> please don't bully me for this fic, thanks
> 
> comments are appreciated :)

he came off as just another idiot at first; the other teens around town weren’t exactly the brightest, or the most respectful for that matter.

frankly, you wanted nothing to do with the clone. he was disrespectful, rude, egotistical, and so, so fucking stupid. going off of what you’d seen and heard of him, he wasn’t really worth interacting with.

so when jfk started flirting with you like you were just another doormat who’d put out for him on the first date, you were quick to blow him off.

the chatter around the two of you slowed; it was clear that people were beginning to notice that jfk was hitting on you, and soon, the room was filled with hushed voices likely talking shit about you. you feel your face heat up out of embarrassment.

it was surprising that out of everyone at freshman orientation, he’d flirt with _you._ not only were there a hundred other far more attractive people going to clone state, you yourself weren’t even a clone, so not only were you an outcast, but you were harassed daily with questions like “how did you get into clone state?” and “so who was your clone parent?”.

why would jfk’s clone want anything to do with a nameless nobody? with someone who was basically known for being unknown?

you thought that you had gotten past the most surprising part of the day at this point. however, you were sorely mistaken.

kennedy looked genuinely taken aback by the fact that you’d said no, and was even _apologetic_ since you had expressed your disinterest. it really wasn’t what you had expected at all; based on what you’d heard from your peers in the hallway (and from jfk himself, face it, he wasn’t the quietest person in the world), he wasn’t very good at accepting rejection quietly.

after you’d essentially told him to fuck off, he apologized and walked away, leaving you in disbelief. the room slowly filled back up with talking, only a few people sparing you glances. he’d really given up so easily?

you weren’t interested at all, and you knew that for a fact, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it for hours afterwards. did someone dare him to do it? did he bet someone he could get you to say yes? probably. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but as you got home from campus and began to get ready for bed, the situation still nagged at the back of your mind.

the next day, you were walking the campus to get a good idea of the layout, when someone tapped on your shoulder. you turn around and your heart skips a beat. it’s jfk. of course.

“what do you want, kennedy.” you sighed in exasperation.

“well i, er, uh, wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday. i didn’t think you’d be so quick to, uh, say no on account of that you’re not with anyone, uh, right now..” he wasn’t smiling, which only frustrated you more. why was he being so sincere? he was probably just trying to get into your pants, so you waved a hand dismissively.

“i don’t know how you found out that i’m single, i don’t know why you’re being so nice to me, and i don’t know why you won’t stop talking to me. leave me alone.” you turned to walk away and continue your walk. the other seemed surprised at your firm rejection, but this time, rather than backing down, he kept talking.

“i didn’t know you were, uh, single. i was just taking a guess, based on, uh, how you didn’t have any friends!” jfk put his hands on his hips proudly, like he didn’t realize exactly what he’d just said. you shot him a glare. how obvious did you have to make it that you weren’t interested?!

“look, kennedy, you’re probably a _really_ nice dude, but i’m not into you. at _all._ ”

at your words, jfk looked genuinely hurt. he glanced around as if searching for words and opened his mouth, only to have no response. you almost felt guilty, but quickly recalled his reputation as a disrespectful asshole. he crossed his arms, tapping his foot in thought. ugh, he’s probably restrategizing on how to get to you.

“would you want to, er, uh, at least grab milkshakes or something?”

you scrunched up your eyebrows, looking away from jfk. that didn’t sound too bad… even if it was with an asshole like him… it was just milkshakes after all. maybe if you kept ahold of yourself, you could just do this one time (if not just to get him off your back). you let out a long sigh.

“fine. just tell me when. you’re paying.”

“hell yeah!” jfk gasped, his face lighting up. you could swear he was grinning wider than you’d ever seen him do. “i can pick you up at, uh, 7:30! just text me your address, thanks.” he pulled out a business card with his name and phone number, handing it to you with a grin. you almost laughed. that was really in character.

“see you then, i guess.” you gave him a small wave and walked off. he doesn’t respond, and you just assume he’s standing there in awe. or, that’s what you’d like to think at least.

\--

you had to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t a date. it wasn’t a date! he never asked you on a date, he just asked to go get milkshakes and that’s it. sure, it was implied based on how much he flirted with you, but it doesn’t count! since he didn’t call it a date, it wasn’t a date!

you kept telling it to yourself, and thankfully, it kind of worked. but it didn’t calm your nerves in the least. you couldn’t believe you agreed to spend the evening with this jerk.

you received a text at around 7:25 from an unknown number. you groaned, knowing it was jfk, and opened the message.

_ay its me am outside_

you rolled your eyes. yep, it’s him. you quickly responded. _omw_

suddenly it dawned on you that you were in what you’d worn out all day: something way too formal for milkshakes with some douche. knowing kennedy, he was probably in his same shitty red sweater and too-tight khakis that he’d worn for the last three years. you sighed, pulling on some black jeans and an orange clone state hoodie, hoping that wearing the baggy top and not doing your hair would send jfk the message that, again, _this was not a date._

you tied your shoes and grabbed your keys, heading out of your apartment door. you rushed downstairs and as the door of your building swung shut behind you, you looked out to the parking lot to look for jfk’s car. you quickly spotted the red convertible parked a few spots away from you. the headlights were almost blinding; it was really only about sunset, so you had no idea why he would have them on so early into the evening.

oh yeah, because he was a fucking idiot.

once you walked over and closed the car door behind you, you looked at kennedy and what he was wearing. you’re almost impressed; skinny blue jeans and a red t-shirt. it almost looked like he put in some effort for you.

“you look… nice.” you managed; you may have even meant it a little bit. jfk beamed.

“You’re a, uh, real smasher yourself. and by smasher i mean- “

“no. none of those jokes. none.” you interjected. “they make me uncomfortable.”

jfk took a moment to think, just staring at you in confusion, then nodded. “okay, uh, fair enough.” he simply responded, grabbing the aux cord. “so do you have any music you want, uh, to play?”

you sat there, processing his response, then gently nodded and took the aux cord. wow, he actually listened to you. maybe he wasn’t all that disrespectful after all?

you scrolled your music app, then chose some upbeat song you always enjoyed. you can’t exactly tell without looking at him, but you swore you could see jfk smile out of the corner of your eye.

as the song blasted and you cruised down the main road, you could feel the cool breeze blowing through your hair. you understood why kennedy chose to use this car all the time now; it was oddly comforting. you closed your eyes. you can feel jfk’s eyes on you, watching how content you were.

though, he _should_ have had his eyes on the road.

as quickly as the good feeling came, it went, and jfk parked the car in the parking lot of the Grassy Knoll . you looked over at jfk, who was combing his hair, and rolled your eyes. instead of trying to look presentable, you simply brushed your hair into something you’re guessing would look okay, and get out of the car.

jfk glanced at you, slightly surprised, and quickly dropped his comb. he followed you close behind, into the diner. the two of you found a booth to sit at, and immediately, you pulled your phone out to focus on anything other than kennedy. after a while, you can still feel him watching you, so when he actually talked to you, you were a little surprised.

“hey, er, uh, what kind of milkshakes do you like?”

you looked up from your phone at kennedy and scrunched up your eyebrows. was he actually trying to make conversation? genuine conversation?

may as well try to learn a little more about him. as shitty as he was, he was still a little interesting. maybe you could learn something you didn’t know before.

“strawberry is good. vanilla is a little plain, but it’s good every once in a while.” you put away your phone and sat up straight, looking at jfk with confusion written all over your face. apparently, though, he didn’t notice - which may have been good. “what about you?”

he looked slightly surprised that you asked him, but smiles. “i, er, uh, want to make a joke right now but you, uh, told me not to. my favorite kind, uh, is dark chocolate.”

you hummed, intrigued. could this not-date actually go alright?

after ordering your milkshakes, your conversation continued. you found yourself growing more and more invested in learning about the clone. you felt time slip by quickly as you got to talking about a lot of different things, from movies to books to school. you never really expected him to be this open to talking about… anything, really. and you never really expected him to be able to carry on a conversation without completely 

soon, closing time came upon the diner and you were kicked out. on the way back to your apartment, you once again closed your eyes as the wind blew through your hair and music blasted over the speakers. and again, you felt jfk’s eyes on you sometimes throughout the ride.

as he pulled into your apartment’s parking lot, you looked over at jfk and saw him frowning slightly. once he put his car into park, you turned to him.

“what’s up?”

there was a silence as the other thought. you could practically see how hard he was thinking. “i had a, er, uh, really good time. shame we can’t, uh, do it again, though.” he smiled sadly. you bit your lip. you really did have a good time. and even though you hated to admit it, you may actually like the guy a little bit now... aw, what the hell.

“we can always do it again.” you reassured him. his face lit up, eyes hopeful.

“you really mean that?” he squealed with excitement. you let out a small laugh.

“of course. as friends, though, please.”

“you’ve got yourself a, uh, deal! friendship dates, haha.” he laughed at his own joke, and while you didn’t laugh, you were definitely anticipating the next time you hung out.

\--

you had no idea why you felt like dropping out of clone state was a good idea.

well, you couldn’t really call it dropping out, since you technically never started classes or moved into a dorm. whatever it was called, you weren’t going to school anymore.

you didn’t even bother to call the admissions office. you stopped showing up to college events, and answering calls and emails. eventually, your notifications stopped blowing up, and you guessed that people just assumed you weren’t around anymore. not too much of a loss, really. since no one ever talked to you.

sure, you were completely torn up about this and you felt like all the plans you’d had for your life were crumbling to bits, but for everyone else this was probably fine! that’s what really mattered. your classmates would message you any day now talking about how good college was. without you.

and the first person to text you was jfk, of course. who else would it be.

except... it wasn’t to brag about college or to talk about how good it was without you. he actually wanted to hang out; apparently, according to his texts, he’d noticed your absence. you’d expressed to him that you weren’t a charity case and didn’t need to be looked after, but he insisted on coming over with some movies and popcorn at the very least.

eventually, you told him he could come over. reluctantly.

you’d actually spent a lot of time together lately. eventually, after going out a couple more times for milkshakes (which jfk always insisted on paying for) the flirting and general fuckboy attitude went away, and you got to talk to him more about what you had the first time you went out. at that point though, you wouldn’t even have called it ‘going out’ anymore; it was really just hanging out, since kennedy really wanted to be friends for some odd reason. you wished you knew why.

after some texting and a phone call, jfk arrived with popcorn and sodas. he'd even gone by and rented some movies. and by some, you meant about six or seven. apparently, he “didn’t know what, uh, movies you liked” so he went ahead and rented as many as he could afford. (considering he spent money like no tomorrow, it made sense). you choose some random movie you don’t know the plot to and pop it in, while jfk microwaves the popcorn.

it’d been a while since you’d had a friend over, or a friend at all for that matter. jfk was actually… really nice? maybe people were wrong about him, even if he was still pretty dumb.

“i put our popcorn on plates because i, er, uh, couldn’t find any bowls.” jfk had walked over to you, holding out a small paper plate with way too much popcorn on it. you eyed the plate, looked at jfk’s sheepish expression, and burst out laughing. it wasn’t even that funny, but considering the stress you’d been under since dropping out, it felt good to laugh.

“just ask me for a bowl next time!” you giggled, standing and taking the plates from jfk. you heard the clone sit on the couch as you walked to the kitchen to retrieve two bowls. as you got out the bowls and filled them with the plate popcorn, you glanced over and saw jfk watching the advertisements playing before the movie. god, he was such an idiot,

you walked back to the living room, sitting on your side of the couch and handing jfk his popcorn. as the movie started, you cracked open a soda and thought hard. jfk was pretty far from you on the couch. maybe this wasn’t a ploy to get into your pants after all… six feet, save room for jesus, and all that stuff.

about ten minutes into the movie, you felt jfk shift on the couch. you glanced over and saw him looking at you, so you turned to him, slightly uncomfortable.

“what?”

“i have a question for you.” he starts. you raise your eyebrows, signaling for him to continue. “I, er, uh, haven’t seen you around campus in a few days, and i thought you were excited to, uh, start classes. i was wondering, er, uh, where have you been?”

you pursed your lips, looking down at your lap. oh, god, this was what you were dreading. for someone who actually cared to ask this question. _someone who actually cared?_

“oh. well, i, uh…” you started, searching for words, “it’s hard to say.”

you can see jfk’s face twist as if he’s trying not to laugh or say something stupid, and you rolled your eyes. he must have noticed because he immediately responded. “if anyone, uh, is being a jerk to you, i’ll give em a piece of my mind. no one’s gonna mess with my friend.”

you forced a quiet laugh, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes. time to break the news.

“kennedy, i dropped out.”

there was a deafening silence. you continued to stare at the ceiling, preparing for yelling or an argument. instead, you only hear quiet. then sniffling. you quickly looked at jfk, worried that you were crying and didn’t realize it, but your jaw almost dropped when you saw him crying instead. fat tears rolled down his cheeks, his face flushed a light pink. his chin trembled. he looked pathetic. you didn’t know how to respond, so you sat there in shock.

“i was- ” he started, his breath hitching, “i was excited for you to come to my games.” his voice is high and squeaky, absolutely pitiful. you would have said it was fake if you hadn’t seen him cry a couple times before this.

you scrunched up your eyebrows, concerned. “i can still come to your games, jfk. i just won’t be going to college.”

it seemed to take a moment for the clone to process what you’d said, but he eventually gasped when he realized. “wait, you’re not, uh, moving away?!” he sniffles, wiping his tears with his sweater sleeves. you smiled.

“of course not. i’m still gonna come to all your games, don’t worry.”

jfk beamed, but you could still tell he had questions. “why did you, uh, drop out though? you seem like a valedictorian or something. a lot smarter than me, uh, at least.” he flashed you a smirk.

you drew your legs up onto the couch with you, wrapping your arms around your knees. “i dunno, something about college just didn’t feel right… i guess. i don’t really want to talk about it. it’s... pretty personal.”

“oh thank god.” you can practically feel jfk relax. he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “because i hate it when there’s a lot of pressure to, uh, give advice or listen to serious crap.”

you laughed, “yeah, me too. thanks for not making me talk about it or anything.”

the two of you sat in an awkward silence, the movie playing in the background. you didn’t realize just how much time had passed until the movie ended, and you were faced with the fact that over three hours had gone by. you look over at jfk, who seemed a bit disappointed that the movie was over. and, as strange as it was to admit it, you were pretty disappointed too.

“hey, we can always hang out another time.” you tried. he seemed a bit hesitant to respond, but responded nonetheless.

“i just don’t know when i’ll be free to do this again. you probably have a, uh, job, and i have a lot of other stuff coming up.”

he’s not wrong. you did have a job; one you just recently switched to full time for. you probably wouldn’t have the time to hang out very much, and considering kennedy was balancing both college classes and _three_ different sports, the two of you wouldn’t have much time to hang out anytime soon.

but… you did have the weekends off. and most sports meetings were on weekends, so…

you snapped out of your thoughts to look at jfk. his downcast expression made your heart flutter. _wait, what?_

“i have a, uh, track meet this weekend if you want to come and see me kick some ass.” he stared at you hopefully, eyes wide.

“of course i’ll show up. you’re gonna do fuckin’ great, dude, and i wanna see you win.”

after profusely thanking you for saying yes, jfk threw away the trash in the living room (he insisted on cleaning it up himself) and gathered the movies up to return. as he was walking out the door, he suddenly turned around and gave you a small wave goodbye.

“i like hanging out with you. it’s quiet, and, uh, you’re really nice.” he turns again to leave, but quickly adds, “you’re a good, uh, friend.”

for a minute, you just stood there, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. you quickly realized the door was open, so you closed it and leaned back against it. you cover your mouth with a hand, your face heating up.

sure, it threw you off that he was acting so sweet around you, but he clearly respected you and saw you as a friend. you didn’t have any feelings for him; you just valued your time together and being friends. how could that end up going wrong?

well...

the way your heart fluttered at his smile? the way your face heated up whenever he said something stupid? the way you always wanted to hear him talk, to spend time around him and actually value what he had to say?

the way you probably had a crush on jfk?

yeah. that’s how it could end up going wrong.

\--

you hadn’t even gotten out the door yet, and you knew the day was going to be great.

you were going to go outside! you were going to see your classmates and you were going to see _jfk_! you were beyond excited to see how he’d do at today’s meet; you could feel your mood improving just thinking about seeing the jock’s face. even if he didn’t do well (which you highly doubted) you could always go for milkshakes after the game! since that had kind of been your thing for a while, you knew you could instantly improve his mood with that.

you grabbed your admission money (kindly provided by jfk himself) off your kitchen counter and took a deep breath, trying to quickly prepare for the large amount of people you’re about to suddenly put yourself around. 1, 2, 3… ok, good enough!

you head out the door, hopping into your car and rushing yourself to the meet. you weren’t late or anything; actually, you just wanted to be early so you could get a good seat. clone state’s sports events tended to fill up pretty fast, so even though you were heading out about half an hour early, you still doubted that you’d get there in time.

luckily, you were pleasantly surprised when you saw that the parking lot was relatively empty. you hopped out of your car and headed to the front gate, handing the guy working the admissions booth (gandhi you think?) the money for a ticket. you thank him as he hands you your ticket, and once you head inside, you realize how big the stands are. scanning the area, you see jfk and the other track members stretching on the field. the cheerleaders stood in a circle near the team, talking amongst themselves. although you spotted cleopatra, you managed to brush it off. she and jfk hadn’t been together in a few years, right?

wait, you were just friends with jfk. why did _you_ care?

you sighed, looking at the stands for a place to sit, and eventually settled on the second row. once you plopped your stuff down next to you, you watched the team stretch for a while. and by team, you meant jfk. since when was he so attractive? he was never your type in the first place. why now? when your lives were the most complicated and busy that they’d ever been?

at one point, you caught his eye and he waved to you from across the field. he started to tell you something, but because of the distance between you, you could hardly tell what he was saying. he made wide gestures to try and communicate, but it failed miserably. after jfk had moved on from trying to play his horrible game of charades, you went back to watching him and thinking about how horrible and unfortunate this crush was.

you didn’t notice cleo walking toward you until she cleared her throat.

“hello? i’m right here.” she stood on the ground below you with her hands on her hips, seeming impatient. you immediately wondered why she was talking to you, as her friends were there already and she could basically talk to anyone else there without being judged. maybe this was about… no.

“oh, hey.” you tried to greet her as friendly as possible. “can’t wait to see your cheer routine today. you’re gonna do great.”

“aww, thank you. that’s sweet, actually. but i came over to talk to you about something else.”

she climbed up the first set of bleachers to the second and sat next to you. something about it put you off, the way she was speaking. was it passive aggressive? was she trying to be nice or… 

“listen. i’ve seen you getting a little cozy around jfk. i’ve seen your face whenever you’re together. i know you like him. you do, don’t you?”

you hesitate, then slowly nod. what was she getting at?

“here’s a little friendly advice, then. don’t ask him out. i know me and jfk broke up a while ago, but i’ve been planning a little something for him, and i’d hate to get it ruined. besides, who would jfk really choose? someone like you, or _me_?”

the world around you seemed to slow at her words. she was right. you _were_ pretty normal. compared to all the people who could ask him out, why would he choose you? you’re not even half as attractive. you were pretty mean to him when you first met… and, face it, the guy was pretty stupid. why did you think he even had the capacity to understand why he should choose you? what was stopping him from getting literally any other person besides you?

you bit your lip, nodding and standing up. you grabbed all your things and watched cleo walk away. your eyes swam with tears, which you attempted to blink away, but failed horribly. you put your head down and walk off the bleachers to leave. the stands had grown a bit more crowded, and seeing you beginning to cry, some people began to murmur to each other. you picked up your pace, quickly leaving through the same front gate you’d come in. once you reached your car, you hop in, close the doors, and immediately began to sob. fat tears ran down your face; you tried to stay quiet, as people were still heading in, so you put your head down on the wheel and cover your mouth with a hand.

you hadn’t even realized you had a crush on jfk until two days ago; why would this upset you so much? why did you feel the need to draw attention to yourself and start crying? you felt stupid; stupid for thinking he’d like you back, stupid for thinking you could ever be friends with him. and stupid for thinking he actually liked you.

you were almost pulled deeper into the whirlpool of thoughts, when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. your head shot up and you gasped, looking at the person who’d joined you in your car.

it was jfk, looking very upset and very concerned. he was still in his track uniform; he didn’t bother to change when he followed you? or had the meeting not even started yet?

you once again break down into tears, looking away to shield your face from jfk’s gaze. it proved to be difficult, though, and you end up gasping out something like “don’t - look - at - me” between sobs. you noticed jfk look away, up at the ceiling of the car.

you were so shocked, that you stopped crying, and once you processed that he’d actually done it, you even laughed a little. he looked back at you, clearly

“i, er, uh, saw you talking to cleo, and then when i saw you run off, i, uh, was worried you got upset.”

you stared at him, half amused that he even noticed anything, and half embarrassed that he felt the need to check up on you.

“i’m ok, thanks for coming though.” you sniffled, your voice raspy. jfk seems to scoff at you.

“so my ex talked to you, and then right after that, uh, you decided to leave.” he crosses his arms, tilting his head a little. “what did she say to you? as my new best friend, i, uh, need to know. i’ll even slug her for you, if you want.”

“she… “ you started, wiping your tears with a sleeve. god, your face looked disgusting. “she said that i looked like i liked you and… to not ask you out. because she’s planning something. and doesn’t want it ruined.”

there’s a long, long silence where you stared at your car floor. you slowly felt thoughts consume you again, doubts about whether he would like you back or not nagging at the back of your mind. tears slowly ran down the bridge of your nose and dripped onto the floor. you silently cry, until jfk responds.

“i’ve been done with cleo for, uh, years.” he started. “i don’t like her at all, and, uh, now that i know she’s jealous, we should hang out more, uh, often!”

you let out a weak laugh. “hah, yeah.”

“do you really, uh, like me?” he suddenly asks. your heart skips a beat.

“i... think i do.”

“er… uh... oh.” 

another silence lingered between the two of you. you looked up at jfk, wiping your tears. you can practically see the gears turning in his head; his eyebrows are scrunched up and he wasn’t really looking anywhere in particular, just kind of staring off into the distance.

“you okay?” you quietly asked. he seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in.

“yeah. i, er, uh... listen.” he sighed. you bite your lip anxiously. “i think that, uh, you’re a good friend, and i know at first i, uh, came off like i just wanted to get in your pants.”

you gently nodded. he probably knew that by now; since that was what everyone thought of him…

“i just like being around you, and, er, uh, i’d be more comfortable with staying friends. besides,” jfk smiled sadly,”a knockout like you? you deserve way better than me. we can, er, uh, find someone else in no time.”

you looked down. well, at least he wasn’t upset with you... suddenly, you remembered the track meet.

“jack, you have a meeting to get to!” you gasp. jfk only shrugs, smiling.

“it’s just one game. let’s, er, uh, go out and get milkshakes instead.”

you hesitantly nodded and put your keys in the ignition. though you didn’t want to pull jfk from the meet, he seemed like he wanted to go, so you went with it anyway.

as you drove yourself and jfk to the grassy knoll, you smiled to yourself. yeah, you were sad he didn’t like you back, and yeah, you were sad that he would probably rather date someone else. but at least he was still here, and wanted to spend time with you.

huh. he really did make you happy, even if you couldn't be together.


End file.
